


Battle wounds

by Lilibet



Series: October 2020 prompts [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: A sprinkle of angst for good measure, Established Relationship, Fluff, Flufftober2020, M/M, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26812366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilibet/pseuds/Lilibet
Summary: “Will you sit still?”“It hurts,”“Well, maybe if you hadn’t thrown yourself in front of a sword you wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place,”Qui-Gon is an idiot. Obi-Wan is not impressed.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: October 2020 prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949062
Comments: 12
Kudos: 63





	Battle wounds

**Author's Note:**

> For the Flufftober 2020 day 4 prompt "wounded". Enjoy!

“Will you _sit still?_ ”

“It hurts,”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t thrown yourself in front of a _sword_ you wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place,”

Silence, then the rustle of clothing.

“Qui-Gon, I swear to every deity in this damn galaxy that if you don’t stop fidgeting like a hyperactive youngling, _I’m going to throw out all of your plants when we get back to the temple_ ,”

A huff, words muttered under a breath, but thankfully no more fidgeting for the next few minutes.

By the time Obi-Wan has nearly finished tying his stitches (such a crude way of closing a wound, but beggars can’t be choosers when out of bacta in the middle of nowhere in the outer rim), Qui-Gon is about ready to jump out of his skin. Who knew little bits of wire in your skin could be so _painful_?

He tries to focus on Obi-Wan, watching his face as he concentrates on threading the wire through his skin and carefully tying knots. The wound smarts, a deep gash slicing from his right hip round to the back of his ribs, and he tenses to stop himself from flinching.

“Do you know that you chew on your lip when you’re concentrating?”

Obi-Wan pauses and flicks his eyes up to Qui-Gon, raising an imperious eyebrow that quite effectively conveys the right level of ‘ _are you serious?’_. Qui-Gon’s always been amazed at how effective Obi-Wan is at communicating using just his eyebrows. It’s a language he’s become fluent in over the years, considering he’s usually the target of their focus. Qui-Gon at least has the good grace to look sheepish.

“Perhaps if I wasn’t so focused on stopping you bleeding out in the middle of this maker forsaken planet, I might have noticed.”

His voice is clipped and Qui-Gon mentally winces, deciding that it’s probably best if he shut his mouth right about now.

He goes back to his Obi-Wan-watching, cataloguing the freckles that have begun to appear from their time on this sunny planet. They’re beautiful, delicate and dainty, dusting across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks. Qui-Gon knows they would be appearing on his shoulders too, if only Obi-Wan would stop wearing his robe on this planet.

Qui-Gon mourns their loss.

Whenever they emerge on Obi-Wan’s skin he always makes sure he appreciates them fully, mapping them with his tongue like constellations in the sky, a fantasy of his own in a galaxy made for just the two of them.

Obi-Wan would laugh and try to swat him away, a tantalising blush rising in his cheeks as he tries to squirm away from the ticklish tongue licking across the backs of his shoulders.

His favourite freckles are wet freckles. Often after Obi-Wan’s just emerged from a bath, or after a refreshing swim in a lake, and the water rivulets are slipping down the contours of his body.

Those freckles always taste the sweetest.

He’s so caught up in his own thoughts, he doesn’t notice when Obi-Wan ties the last knot of his stitches and gently smooths a protective film over the wound. One of the last in their dwindling collection of first aid supplies.

The air turns heavy, Obi-Wan’s hand still resting on his hip. He’s staring at the wound, but the faraway look in his eyes tells Qui-Gon he’s not really seeing what’s in front of him.

He leans forward, shifting to get his knees under him and ignoring the painful twinge in his side, to cup Obi-Wan’s face between his hands.

The sun is setting behind him, casting arcs of purple and orange light streaking across the sky that illuminates the wetness in Obi-Wan’s eyes. His gaze stares eerily right through him.

“I’m still here, Obi-Wan. I’m still with you,” He swipes his thumbs over the delicate skin under Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Come back to me, love.”

Obi-Wan blinks, eyelashes clumping together with unshed tears, and his gaze finally focuses on Qui-Gon.

“There you are,” Qui-Gon murmurs, smiling gently.

Obi-Wan gives him a wobbly smile in return, wrapping shaking fingers around one of Qui-Gon’s wrists. Qui-Gon places a gentle kiss between his eyes.

Obi-Wan lets out a laugh, a wet sound with a tinge of hysteria around the edges. Qui-Gon pulls him into his arms then, and Obi-Wan goes willingly, now sobbing into the crook of his neck.

As much as Qui-Gon feels guilty for causing this much distress to Obi-Wan, he wouldn’t change his actions. The sword-wielding assassin was definitely a surprise in the middle of the desert, their singular focus on Obi-Wan more so. But he can live with himself getting hurt, will always put Obi-Wan before himself. So long as he has the power to protect Obi-Wan, he will.

Obi-Wan is the light of his life. He shudders to think what would happen if that light was extinguished, and he vows to never find out.

They spend the rest of night huddled together, Obi-Wan clinging to Qui-Gon like he used to when he was a young padawan. It is something he has missed, ever since puberty and Obi-Wan’s desire to be self-sufficient took it away.

This war is drain on everyone, everywhere. His former padawan is always so strong, always putting on a brave face despite the crumbling foundations beneath him, the constant losses of their clones, their _friends_. No one else seems to notice how each one chips away at the suave façade of _The Negotiator_ , how the cracks are growing deeper until eventually they will break open. But Qui-Gon does.

Qui-Gon notices everything about Obi-Wan.

He just hopes he’ll be around at the end to pick up the pieces.


End file.
